


F is for Friend

by FenHarelMaGhilana (WhitethornWolf)



Series: Fortune Favour Me [19]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-08 23:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhitethornWolf/pseuds/FenHarelMaGhilana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Eilin and Leliana discuss Marjolaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	F is for Friend

The chantry in Denerim was a far cry from Castle Cousland's stuffy little chapel. It was large and crowded where she was used to solitude; it also stank of sweat and incense.

Eilin plucked nervously at the folds of her dress as she walked down the aisle between pews. She felt naked without her armour and sword, even if she knew the guards were unlikely to look for her in here. Caution was second nature now, it seemed, and was necessary in a place like Denerim - even being in the city was like sticking your head in a mabari's mouth and hoping it wouldn't bite down.

When Zevran had apologetically woken her with the news of Leliana's disappearance, she'd been concerned rather than angry. Friends and allies were in short supply for even a wrongly accused traitor, and she could hardly afford to drive people away with suspicion. After the events of the last two days, what happened with Marjolaine...Eilin understood. Orlesian bards were far more subtle than darkspawn. She put on her 'city clothes', consisting of a rumpled dress and tattered shoes stuffed in her pack, and went searching.

She didn't have to look far. Leliana sat in a pew in the centre, too far for the priestesses to catch a glimpse of her face, but too near to cause much suspicion. She was wearing her Chantry robes and singing quietly, her voice almost a breathy whisper.

_"The one who repents... who has faith unshaken by the darkness of the world..."_

"She shall know true peace," Eilin murmured with her, and sat down.

"There is peace in the Maker's house, is there not?" Leliana said, more to her lap than to Eilin. "I find the Chant soothing."

Soothing was not a word Eilin would use to describe the constant background murmur that grated on her ears, but it wasn't really necessary to disagree.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Leliana glanced at her in surprise, her eyes watery.

"I can't get what happened out of my head," she admitted after a moment.

Eilin nodded. "About Marjolaine?"

"Yes." Leliana twisted a kerchief around her fingers, frowning. She didn't meet Eilin's eyes. "Also, about what she said. What if...what if she was right?"

"She was just trying to make you doubt yourself," Eilin said. "We backed her into a corner. She was afraid. People like her will always try to manipulate those they fear."

"People like her," Leliana repeated, and met her gaze for the first time. "People like me, you mean."

"You are not Marjolaine," Eilin told her as if that were the final word on the topic.

"Aren't I? I could have been wrong. About everything. Since I left the cloister...everything we've done-hunted men down, killed them, part of me loves it." Leliana blinked and dropped her eyes again, mouth turning down at the corners. "It invigorates me. I...some part of me enjoys it." She sighed. "Maybe I should have stayed in the Chantry."

"If you'd stayed, you wouldn't have such marvelous adventures with us," Eilin replied lightly, nudging her shoulder. "Living in a cloister can't be as exciting as life on the road, can it? Camping in the forest, weekly bandit raids, Alistair's lamb stew..."

Leliana grinned. "I'm not sure _exciting_ is how I would describe Alistair's stew. It is rather..."  
"Terrible?"

"Oh, you are so mean! No! It is a little...simple."

"Simple is not a bad thing. Our Fereldan cuisine is too uncivilised for your sensitive Orlesian stomach, admit it."

They hid their giggles behind their hands as a priestess gave them a disapproving glare from nearby.

"You are a true friend," Leliana murmured eventually. "Marjolaine was not. She was self-serving, cruel...she loved me when she could use and control me. I suppose it hurt to realise that."

"It's never easy," Eilin admitted, and pulled the other woman closer, squeezing her arm. "But Marjolaine can't hurt you anymore. And you always have me, you know that."

Leliana rested her cheek on Eilin's shoulder. "I know," she murmured, though her voice still held a tinge of sadness.


End file.
